


The Long Road

by connorssock



Series: Love Is Calorie Free [4]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Anorexia, Body Paint, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Recovery, Self-Loathing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-19 04:57:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19968400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/connorssock/pseuds/connorssock
Summary: Recovery wasn't as easy as deciding from one day to the next that he was going to be fine. Sixty knew it was going to be more difficult than that but at least he now had Allen to help him through it all.





	The Long Road

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amnael](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amnael/gifts).



> For Amnael who draws some of the most gorgeous art I have ever seen and is an utter sweetheart in general.

Unfortunately, recovery wasn’t as easy in practical terms as it was verbally. Sixty had every intention of getting better. The scare after the vomiting bug was bad enough, even with his brothers rallying around him. And yet, despite his every promise to himself, he couldn’t break free of the cycle. He’d shoved the scales away, didn’t weigh himself in a ritual each evening. Instead, he curled up on the couch with Allen, tried to focus on something else. But years of habit meant that even without the scales, he had a pretty good idea of how much he weighed and how much he could eat before hitting his limit. Not that he had limits anymore, but he couldn’t tell his stomach that when after an apple for lunch he spent an hour feeling sick and bloated. Baby steps, that’s what Allen kept telling him. It was okay to not be perfect immediately, to have moments where things slipped back to old habits. All they needed to do was keep on going; Sixty could always turn to Allen when things got tough.

It boiled down to a simple thing really; Sixty had been mulling it over for so long now. Perhaps for years but only recently had he been able to admit it even to himself. He and Allen were curled up on the sofa after a light dinner of which Sixty could barely choke down half. However, rather than reprimand him, Allen had offered him a warm smile and a kiss to his forehead with a soft “well done” as if eating a handful of half laden forks of dinner was something to be commended; even a child could do better than that.

“Do you love yourself?” Sixty asked, unable to voice his own thoughts on the matter.

“I guess?” Allen replied, his hands never stopped stroking Sixty’s arm. “I never really gave it much thought. My body is mine, I didn’t have a say in how it was built. I must say I’ve never really given it much thought. Why?”

Sixty didn’t have an answer to that which didn’t feel too raw, wouldn’t burn his throat as he said it. Instead, he stayed quiet, ignored the question and burrowed a little closer to Allen to steal more of his warmth.

They remained like that, peaceful, silent and Sixty began to slowly drift off. His stomach was settling and breathing came a little easier too as a result. A smile played on his lips; he’d managed to have a semblance of dinner which went better than the previous night when he’d ended up doubled over the toilet half an hour after eating.

“I don’t think I like myself very much,” he finally managed to whisper. Allen only tightened his hold around Sixty and pulled him a little closer which was something that made Sixty grateful. Hollow words such as “I’ll love you enough for both of us then” or “you’ll learn to love yourself soon” would have only made him feel empty and broken. Like this though, Allen made it okay. It was fine that he hated himself; there was time to change that.

Gentle kisses to the cheek and forehead slowly became more. It was actually Sixty who broke their ritual morning kiss by tipping Allen’s face down towards his and pecking him on the lips before rolling out of bed and scuttling away. He thought he had gotten away with it too until a hand wrapped around his wrist, fingers curled easily around the thin bones, covering them with ease. Expecting stupid questions like “what were you thinking?” or even worse, “are you sure?” made Sixty bristle. He didn’t anticipate a small smile to be sent his way.

“Thank you,” Allen murmured and let him disappear into the bathroom, confused and uncertain. At every turn Allen had defied expectations he held neither Connor’s raw anger and desperation nor Nines’ detached, almost clinical expectations. It made things infinitely easier and yet Sixty couldn’t wrap his head around it, terrified of not being able to guess how Allen was going to react to anything. The days he ended up heaving into the toilet, he looked up to find Allen next to him with a glass of water to rinse his mouth. There was no pity or sadness in his eyes, only a tired acceptance. He never chastised Sixty, expressed disappointment. On really bad days, he even rubbed Sixty’s aching back.

“We’ll get there,” he said each time it happened. Some days that was enough to get Sixty to tear up and he was pulled against Allen’s chest, cradled and held until the shaking stopped.

“I’m so sorry,” Sixty cried and Allen simply held him a little tighter, burying his face in his hair.

After that first kiss, Sixty wasn’t sure what was and wasn’t allowed. He got the impression that Allen was letting him take the lead even though he was uncertain what he was leading them towards. The soft little touches at lunchtimes turned into a coffee out of the office and people seemed to be cheering him on.

“It’s good for you to get out once in a while, boss,” Tanner had grinned. “Might catch a bit of colour for once.”

During those quiet lunch hours, Sixty sat next to Allen, sometimes in silence, sometimes going over a case in a private corner. The only thing that steadily changed was the amount of distance between them until they were leaning over the table, foreheads almost touching and Sixty had to lean back to take a sip of his cream rich coffee.

“You’re really cute when you get caught up in a conspiracy theory, the excitement makes your eyes shine,” Allen murmured and his hands brushed against Sixty’s on the table. Rather than pull away, Sixty twisted his hand palm up and linked their fingers awkwardly.

“Is this okay?” He asked with a sudden bout of shyness.

Allen merely pulled his hand to his lips to kiss his knuckles with a soft smile, “More than.”

It gave Sixty a swell of hope that he was allowed to ask for more. They’d not talked about the kiss but it had very much been on his mind since. However, talking had never been his strong suit and so, one unremarkable evening, he leaned across the sofa and simply kissed Allen again, hoping for the best.

He hadn’t expected Allen to moan against his lips and pull him closer. Whatever they had been watching that evening was forgotten in favour of straddling Allen’s lap and kissing him until they were both out of breath and straining in their pants.

“How far do you want to take this tonight?” Allen asked.

As much as Sixty wanted to lead them into the bedroom and have Allen take him apart, he shied away from the touch. Cruel jibes echoed in his mind. How he was all sharp bones so a rough fuck. A sweet hole but a shame about the lack of padding. He wasn’t ready to hear those kinds of comments from Allen. Even though he knew they wouldn’t be coming, not with the way Allen had been so gentle and patient with him, fully aware of everything before they ever started anything. But still, he slipped off Allen’s lap and turned away to hide the hurt.

Memories of Connor’s words rattled through his mind, “so Sixty, when you get railed, do your bones rattle?” and “I imagine they get distracted by playing xylophones on your ribs - bit of a mood killer to have Wheels On A Bus tapped out while trying to get off I guess.” Each so called joke had been Connor’s attempt to goad Sixty into breaking out of his eating habits and weight obsession. All it had achieved was to make Sixty hide more, withdraw from his family to keep himself safe from the hurt. And when he couldn’t avoid them, he swaddled in hoodies to hide his figure from them.

A hand on his shoulder pulled him from his spiral of memories and self-loathing. He felt bloated, fat and disgusting, he wished he hadn’t eaten so much for dinner and the need to purge and starve himself burned through his veins.

“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?” Allen lightly tapped his temple once Sixty was looking at him.

“Nothing,” Sixty replied too quickly. He was surprised when rather than press the issues, Allen pulled him into his side, let him curl up as small as he could and began to trace idle patterns over his skin. They settled back to watch TV but Allen held him close for the rest of the night, even curling behind Sixty’s back tightly in bed, nuzzling against the back of his neck, pressing kisses to the bumps of his spine.

It still took Sixty a couple of days before he felt comfortable cornering Allen again, this time in the kitchen as he was sorting out the shopping. A couple of bags were on the side and he was reaching for the cupboard when Sixty wrapped arms around him from behind. Smiling, Allen turned and returned the hug with a pleased little hum which turned into a moan when Sixty pressed their lips together.

Pulling away, he looked at Sixty, “Not that I’m complaining but what’s brought this on?”

“I felt like it,” Sixty replied and angled in for another kiss which Allen happily gave. When his hands slipped under Sixty’s jumper, it made him freeze before stubbornly returning to his task of making Allen forget anything outside of them.

Pushed against the counter as he was, Allen pulled Sixty as close as possible, smiled at the way they slotted together. He could feel everything; from each breath Sixty desperately drew to the way his cock was filling out against his thigh. To encourage him, Allen let his hands drift down to cup his cheeks and yanked him closer. The soft ‘meep’ Sixty let out was adorable.

“Let me show you how much I love you?” Allen pulled his nose across Sixty’s jaw as he whispered his request.

The mood was immediately gone as Sixty pushed away. He stood and watched helplessly as Sixty ran an agitated hand through his hair.

“You can’t say that. You don’t- You don’t know any better. My brothers made sure you were programmed like this,” his breaths were hitching in panic and Allen did the only thing he could think. He reached for Sixty and pulled him close.

“I know exactly what I was and was not programmed for. And nobody, not even the great Elijah Kamski himself could program an android to love. Not at the ferocity with which I adore you. Let me show you.”

He waited for Sixty’s hesitant nod before ever so gently cupping his cheek and guiding him closer. They didn’t kiss; instead he rested their foreheads together and allowed Sixty to just breathe with him.

“I love you, there was never any doubt about that,” he whispered. “And I know you’re self-conscious about how you look. The warring feeling of being fat and bloated against the shame of bones sticking out. I want to help. Do you trust me?”

Again, Sixty nodded, eyes focused on Allen, feeling warmth spread through him at the gentle smile bestowed on him.

“Thank you,” Allen murmured and kissed him on the cheek before linking their hands and pulling Sixty towards the bedroom. “You’ve seen an android naked before, haven’t you?”

“Yeah?” Sixty looked puzzled but didn’t seem too put off by the fact that Allen started stripping.

When he was finally naked, he gestured at his body, “So you know this isn’t what I actually look like, but rather, this.” He deactivated his skin and waited until Sixty had taken a good, long look at him before turning it back on again. “So that is me, the real me. And I hate it. Because it’s not warm and soft like a human.”

“But it’s you.” Sixty frowned. “You can’t change the nature of what you are. Even if I don’t always understand your anatomy, I-” he broke off as he realised what he was about to say but then went with it anyway. “I love you just the way you are.

That brought a smile to Allen’s face made Sixty smile back reflexively. Walking closer to him, Allen let the skin peel back on his hand as he reached for Sixty’s face. “Would you like to understand better?”

Nodding, Sixty allowed himself to be slowly stripped; each bit of skin revealed was reverently kissed. When he was completely naked, he wrapped arms protectively around his midriff, partly from the chill of the air and partly because he wasn’t sure Allen really wanted to see him.

“I’ve seen you bare before, love,” Allen soothed but stepped away with a final caress. He reached for the bedside table and pulled out what looked like a small pot of paint and a brush. “Body safe paint,” he showed Sixty.

Not understanding, Sixty took the pot and looked at it. The paint in it was a soft, electric blue, similar to the light that had shone from the joints of Allen’s chassis. Passing it back, he made a questioning noise which seemed enough to get Allen talking again as he dipped the brush into the paint.

“I’ll show you,” he murmured and traced a bright blue circle at the bottom of Sixty’s sternum. “This is the thirium pump regulator. It has the same function as your Purkinje fibers in your heart.”

Sixty huffed and squirmed a little at the way the brush moved over his skin. It was nice but alien at the same time. His movements didn’t deter Allen from his quest.

“If you touch it just right, run a finger or tongue around it, you can make my pump stutter a little. It does give quite the rush as it settles.”

Next, he painted long, broad lines over Sixty’s ribs, matching them in a symmetrical set on the other side. “The chest panels are often removed for maintenance. They’re not as sensitive as a result.”

Delicate stripes followed either side of Sixty’s throat and he tipped his head back to make it easier.

“If you ever needed to silence me, you would open my chassis on the left and disconnect my voice modulator.” Sixty’s eyes fluttered shut at the sensation of the brush over his throat, the cool paint spread evenly over his skin. “But the neck has so many ports, and wires. It’s as sensitive as that of a human’s. Definitely an android erogenous zone.”  
  
Allen followed his words up with a soft kiss, his lips smeared the freshly painted lines a little. The brush swept over his cheekbones with a rumbled commentary about jaws, only to be followed by blue stained lips leaving more marks across Sixty’s skin.

Long lines stretched down Sixty’s arms and Allen sucked bruises into his shoulder before painting the joint socket amidst a mix of praise and talk of how the joints worked. By the time his stomach was being lined in blue, Allen was kneeling by Sixty’s feet and staring up at him with open adoration even as his hands worked.

Nipping at Sixty’s hip, he encouraged him to turn so he could paint the seams of a chassis across his back, teeth sinking harshly into the point where thigh met buttock.

“This might not be as obvious to a human, but here,” Allen dabbed the brush into a larger spot on the small of Sixty’s back, “this is where our spine attaches to our chassis the most. It’s a bit thicker so they’ve added extra sensors; make sure we know if something is at risk there.”

The brush tickled down the back of Sixty’s thighs, danced over his calves and there was no hiding that he was half hard by the time Allen turned him back to work his way up his shins.

“I guess there is one component I missed out. But I better trace the lines with my tongue here,” he grinned and took Sixty’s hardening cock in his mouth. As promised, his tongue traced lines over it but the pattern was lost to Sixty, he was too busy staring down at the sight of Allen on his knees, lips wrapped around him.

The blue lines on his body were a sharp contrast to his pale skin, seeming to almost glow. Allen’s eyes darkened as he watched Sixty take it all in, fingers ghosting just shy of touching the paint. Pulling off, he sighed happily.

“Will you let me make love to you?”

“Please,” Sixty was pulling him to his feet and steering them onto the bed, uncaring of the wet paint he was already smearing. “Make me forget.

The growl of “with pleasure” was the last thing Sixty really heard, they tumbled onto the bed, bodies slipping and gliding thanks to the paint. There was no time to worry about being too sharp and bony as Allen pinned him to the bed, kissed him all over, blue paint smeared across his lips and jaw.

Gentle fingers opened Sixty up, never letting his mind wander further than how good it felt to be all but worshipped. His skin was littered with purpling bruises Allen pulled forth with his mouth, their kisses held the bitter tang of paint. It didn’t matter though, Sixty was afloat on the feeling of Allen on top of him, in him, claiming him in a way nobody had before. Anyone before him had only ever wanted a quick fuck, maybe the perks that came with fucking the SWAT Captain. Nobody had ever wanted to hold him so close, cherish him like that before. It made Sixty want to wrap himself around Allen even more, voice breaking on soft moans and pleas. He pushed his legs wider, lifted his hips to draw him deeper and his hands left blue prints all over his body. One such outline covered Allen’s cheek as Sixty silently pleaded for kisses which swallowed his moans as he arched and came on their stomachs, obscuring the smudged lines even more.

Panting, Sixty held onto Allen, shivered at each thrust until Allen came with a low grunt, wrapped his arms around Sixty and held him close.

“I love you,” he repeated once the bliss had faded somewhat. “For who you are. As long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters to me.”

There were tears in Sixty’s eyes which he tried to blink away but more followed. They were kissed away and Allen kept him close, careful to roll them gently to the side with murmurs of praise.

It wasn’t a magical cure; Sixty didn’t suddenly spring up from bed with an acceptance of himself and a newfound balance in his relationship with food. He did, however, learn how to make Allen weak at the knees, could trace the seams of his chassis and make his eyes slip shut with a contented purr. Everything else could come in its own time. All Sixty had to do was trust Allen he’d be there alongside him and the rest would fall into place.

**Author's Note:**

> Knocking around on tumblr as @connorssock


End file.
